Chapter 4: It’s not a dog.

The bus had continued from city to suburb, to small towns, and finally, the occasional small settlement separated from each other by fields and small groves of trees. The fat lady had got off a couple of stops ago, and I vowed to never take my solitude in the back for granted again.

By now there are few people still on the bus, and we are only a stop away from my house. Which is good because I am in desperate need.

I have my legs clenched together and my hands are clutching the handle of the practice sword Mel gave me. My backpack is on and my sleeping bag is within easy reach for when I end up bolting for the door.

The bus makes a screeching sound as it comes to a stop, followed by the creak of the sliding door opening at the front. I barely notice it over the chanting in my head as I bounce my knee up and down.

Just one more stop. Just one more stop. Just one more stop.

“Last stop! Everybody off!”

I nearly lose it. What is going on?

I grab my sleeping bag and hurry up to the front of the bus. I find Mr. Hendricks sitting slouched in the driver’s seat, still fiddling with the radio.

“Um, Mr. Hendricks, why aren’t you going to the last stop?”

He glances at me, before giving a quick snort and looking away. My cheeks flush with embarrassment and a little bit of anger. It’s not like I made the bus route! What he did was positively rude! Still, I don’t get off and continue to stand at the top of the stairs waiting for a reply.

“Get off kid. You’re the only one that’ ever goes to that last stop and the roads closed. Call your Pa or something to come pick you up, cause I ain’t going no further.”

I stand shocked at his words. What am I supposed to do? He gives me a piercing look and I turn around and scramble down the stairs nearly tripping as I get off the last step. One thought spinning through my head. Why is the road closed?

However, before I can investigate what is going on and finding out how I’m going to get home, I have a more pressing need to take care of.

Sprinting down to the local gas station at full speed I barge through the door and shoot past the startled part-time worker manning the desk. Dashing to the back where I know the public restrooms are. I scramble to open the door and am welcomed by the standard debauchery that is a public restroom, nearly hopping and dancing in place.

A couple minutes later, I leave feeling serene and calm.

Despite finding myself on a porcelain throne, I don’t feel like a proud Demon lord at all. Demon lords are seldom known for needing to use the ‘little girl’s room’.

A memory surfaces, and I remember that spiders don’t actually urinate. Huh, I can honestly say I never wanted to know that particular piece of trivia. I’ll put that thought alongside the one labeled “Bugs” stored in a deep dark recess of my mind, hopefully never to be found or thought of again.

Making my way to the front of the store I examine all the snacks and drinks that are on display. I’m tempted to get something since it’s almost noon and I’m starting to get a little hungry. Remembering the scarce pocket change and looking at the inflated prices I steel myself against temptation. I’ll be home soon anyway. I’ll just eat then.

Remembering my previous mission, I head up to the front.

“Sorry Miss, but do you know why the Northbound road is closed? I live down that way and heard that it was closed. Did something happen?”

“Sorry kid, I haven’t heard much. I know the police showed up this morning but besides that… I got nothing.”

“Thanks anyway.”

I leave the store and start heading towards home. Maybe I’ll be able to find out more when I get closer.

I can’t help but fret over the time. It’s almost noon and I worry that the road won’t be open in time for me to get home. It’s really strange that the road would be closed at all. It’s not like they’d do construction on a road that gets less traffic than the average driveway.

To be honest, I’m lucky the bus driver even drives to the end of the road. It’s only five or six miles from town but three of those are into a small forest.

As I walk, I can’t help but imagine all the things that could have happened. Aliens landing, an escaped criminal fleeing from the law! A buried artifact discovered and locked down as mages and scientists try and discover what it is! Oh, perhaps a herd of…

Soon enough I see the source of my troubles. Right before the road dives into the forest sits a police officer and his cruiser, parked across the road blocking access.

By now my arms are tired from hauling the sleeping bag under my arm and carrying the sword in the other. I switch around which side carries what to spread out the dull ache. I scold my muscles properly, they shouldn’t be protesting over carrying a sleeping bag.

The police officer seems to barely notice as I walk over to the cruiser, his hands and eyes busy texting away at his phone.

“Sir, is it alright if I use this road?” I ask. I figure no matter what has happened, asking can’t hurt. I really do need to get home and it’s only a two- or three-mile walk. At a fast clip I can probably manage to get home in an hour or two.

He glances up at me, looks back at his phone then responds with,

“Sorry Kid. Roads closed for everyone, minus law enforcement officers of course. You’ll have to get someone to drive you around.”

Why is everyone calling me Kid today! I’m not that small! And more importantly…

What does “closed for everyone except law enforcement officers” mean!? What possibly could have happened! My earlier cool ideas take on a grimmer shape. An alien invasion! A criminal holding my family hostage and demanding ransom money. Or, or… My mind spirals with the deadly possibilities.

“D-did something bad happen? The house at the end of the road, is it okay!? Is anyone hurt!?”

He takes his eyes away from his phone and gives me a confused look that slowly morphs into understanding.

“Relax kid, nothing bad’s happened. Some Nobles went hunting and one of the boys lost his dog. They called us in to search for the little puppers. Kid was convinced someone had stolen the dog and insisted that we lock down the area. We usually wouldn’t go so far for a dog, but when you’re dealing with nobility…”

He gives me a shrug with a ‘what can you do?’ expression on his face. My fears seem kind of silly now, but I’m happy that there isn’t an emergency. The forest is a couple square miles and although it’s a lot of space to look for a ‘puppers’, it certainly shouldn’t take all day.

“Do you know when the road will be cleared? I live at the house at the end of this road, so…”

He seems to think for a second then shakes his head. “Sorry kid, we thought we would find the dog this morning, and as you can see it's already noon. I can’t imagine it’ll take much longer, but it would probably be safer to get someone to drive you back on the old game trail.”

My heart sinks. The officer is right. The old game trail certainly does lead to my house, but it winds through the forest nothing more than a rough dirt road. I already know what my father will tell me if I call him. Phrases like “Walk home” Or “Tough it out” are probably some of the kinder ways he could tell me that he isn’t going to pick me up.

Usually, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’ve walked home from this station before. The big problem is that the old game trail is a ten-mile winding stretch, and without water, it’ll be difficult. Not to mention that even at my best pace it’ll probably take me six hours.

“I think I’ll wait. Just for a little before calling. I mean, you could find the dog really soon, right?”

My hopeful question is met with an un-reassuring smile and a very aggravating, “Sure, kid”.

Oi, I resent that comment!

I walk to the side of the road and relax for what I figure will be a long wait. I take my backpack off and arrange my sleeping bag on top, so it doesn’t get dirty. The small wooden sword I set to the side.

I ponder what I should do while I’m waiting. After careful consideration, I decide to stick with the mature option. Carefully extracting my notebook from my backpack, I set to studying. Setting aside fun for homework is something a kid couldn’t do. Only someone as mature, responsible, and sophisticated as me could do that.

So please stop calling me a kid!

Math is fairly simple. We’re learning about how the angles of a triangle all add up to 180 degrees. We’re given several problems and told to determine the angle of one corner when given two others. The problems get trickier as they start giving multiple triangles all stuck together and then expect you to get all the angles after being given a few scattered ones.

I scan the triangles carefully. There are few clues the trail all but gone cold, but I’m good. The best. I’ve hunted down many an angle in my life and this one’s not about to escape the likes of Detective Selina. Tracing down one of the lines with a known angle I find that the line is complicit in the formation of another triangle! How Dastardly! Not only that, but the bottom of the triangles are parallel! This can only mean one thing… the angles are in fact one and the same! The case is solved! Another victory for brilliant Detective Selina!

I continue to work the case, working the angles. When I finally finish, I realize that the whole thing was a scheme within a scheme! The small clues finally falling into place as I realize the terrible truth.

I’m bored!

I slump over onto my backpack and sleeping bag and check my watch. Even I can surprise myself sometimes. I’ve managed to turn a week worth of boring math problems into a two-hour slightly entertaining experience! On the bright side, no more math homework for a week! Hmm, what should I do now that I’ve finished my math homework? Maybe start my history homework now?

Standing up I grab the small wooden sword next to me. Since I don’t have anything better to do I figure I’ll practice with the sword a little. If I do end up taking Mel’s offer to join her swordplay club, it would be good to get some extra practice in. It’s almost two o’clock now and I’m sure that the dog will be found soon. After that, it’ll be a quick two-mile walk home.

I really don’t want to hike the game trail.

Standing and going through the forms that Mel showed me. I start doing the basic swings. Swinging to the right, swinging to the left, some thrusts. As I go through the forms, I imagine the invisible enemies being skewered on my blade. It doesn’t take long for me to run out of forms, however. Me and Mel mainly fight to get her warmed up, and even after doing that for a couple of years, I don’t know too many forms.

Or do I?

I stop for a second and start to examine my spider memories. Looking for fights I’ve had with Swordsman. I find a lot but try and focus on the individual that wounded me or fights that were very difficult to win. They’re surprisingly easy to focus on, as the times I was wounded are painfully clear. I wince at the memories, my arms and legs stinging with phantom pain from the past memories. Not pleasant at all.

I do my best to ignore the memory of the hero. That memory hurts a lot.

I finally choose one and slip into the memory.

I crouch on a tree. There is an intruder in my territory. Unlike the others I usually encounter this one is not prey. It is a predator. It has already avoided many of the traps and webs that would ensnare lesser beings. It has passed several preys already caught, but it is not interested. I come to the logical conclusion. It has come into my nest seeking me, it thinks me to be its prey. Unfortunately for the predator, it will find that I too am not prey. I am a hunter.

I am patient and still. I have far outlived my fellow siblings. I have seen time pass for many years and my thinkings have grown more complex, however, I will not let them push me to rash action. Victory favors the patient.

Finally, the prey steps into the clearing below me. It looks around scanning the clearing for danger and finding nothing, it steps forward.

Fool.

I jump down my mandibles snapping at its unguarded neck, the poison in my venom sacks ready to inject a paralyzing load that will seal the prey’s fate. My jaws snap down and find… nothing!

Somehow the prey has avoided my surprise attack! I scramble backward and find the two-legs standing across from me. A sharp tooth held in its grasp pointing towards me as it stands in a strange crouch—

I step out of the memory for a second and try to get into the stance the strange man was making. It’s tricky. I have to mirror the stance and convert the image in my head from eight eyes to two. When I finally think I’ve got it right I step back into the memory.

The man leaps forward the sword making a slash towards one of my front legs. I scramble out of the way, then attempt to dart forward to bite the man but the sharp tooth is in the way! It is not even a fraction of my size, but its sharp shape seems to always be in the way of any attack I make! No matter how I strike it seems to find its way in front of me halting my attacks from connecting! It is annoying!

I slowly go over the man’s strikes in my head. His sword is always leading as he maneuvers for a strike. This is why I couldn’t land a blow on him back then. His strikes and his steps parallel each other so that his blade is always ready to defend even when he is going forward into an attack! Instead of mixing attacks and defenses, he is always in an in-between state. An attack covers an opening, and a defense sets himself up for his next attack!

I close my eyes. Picturing those fluid motions in my mind. I try to slowly follow them. It’s hard as when I concentrate on his feet my hands don’t quite match the tempo, and when I concentrate on my hands the opposite happens. It is irritating.

I go over the moves again and again and again until my feet and arms are following each other. The moves still feel clunky compared to the man’s, but they seem to be lining up a bit better. I think I’m getting the hang of thi—

My foot catches on something and I give a small yelp opening my eyes to find the branches of a bush flying towards me. I quickly raise my arms to cover my face, but my sword catches on something and I only manage to get one up in time. I tumble into the bush. The branches cushioning my fall, but also scratching up my arms and face. The sword catches on something is smashed into my stomach knocking the air out of me. I thrash for a second limbs flailing and gasping for breath. It takes me almost an entire minute to carefully extract myself from the bush.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I mummer to myself. What kind of idiot runs around practicing a sword with their eyes closed! At least no one was around to see me…

I glance over at the police officer. No. No. No! NO! He is looking over at me with an amused look on his face. His expression cramps as he fights off a grin. He saw it! Why was he looking over here? Doesn’t he have something better to do!? Go back to looking at your phone!

Actually, how long has he been watching!? Did he see… everything?

My face flushes and my cheeks feel like a small furnace is slowly being started up. Toasty. I suddenly have the desire to crawl back into the bush and never come out again. Ever.

I sit there for a few more seconds paralyzed by embarrassment. I’m not sure what to do. Do I continue on as if nothing had happened? Is that even an option at this point?

Luckily, I don’t have to decide. The shadows have shifted quite a bit. Glancing down at my watch I realize that it is almost four o'clock! How long was I swinging that sword around like a lunatic!?

Scrambling up, I notice a few other things. I’m incredibly hot, sore, and sweaty. I take a few jerky steps and hear my stomach give a loud growl. Thanks stomach, as if I needed to be reminded that I haven’t eaten since those delicious pancakes this morning.

Ignoring the lingering embarrassment, I walk towards the police officer trying to ignore the soreness of my muscles, the sweat running down my forehead, and the hole burning up my stomach. My throat is also parched.

I feel awful.

“Did you find the dog yet?” My voice comes out a hideous croak. My throat! Ow!

“Here kid.” Reaching into his car he comes out with a cheap disposable water bottle which he hands to me, it looks beautiful. My fingers tremble as I open it up. Taking a quick swallow, it rushes down and soothes the soreness in my throat. Okay, I forgive you for calling me a kid. Just this once.

“No, we still haven’t found the dog. It’s also getting pretty late; do you want me to call your parents to come pick you up?”

“No. I’m fine.” As much as I hate the game trail, asking my dad to come pick me up is the worse option. Much worse.

He gives me a concerned look but does not say anything else. I think about asking if I can slip by to get home but decide against it. He was already kind enough to give me the water and I don’t want to get him in trouble.

Turning around I set off for the game trail. It’s a ten-mile loop and it’s already four-o’clock so… I’ll be getting home around ten o’clock if I hurry. It starts getting dark around eight. How could I have waited this long to start walking!? Idiot! Not good. Not good at all!

After walking for a little I take off my backpack and stuff my sleeping bag inside. My backpack won’t close now, and it sits a little uncomfortably on my back but it's worth it if I don’t have to carry my sleeping bag under my arm. I keep the sword and water bottle in my hand. The bottle is half empty and I am still a little thirsty but with ten miles ahead of me, I’m going to have to ration it.

Plodding along the road I eventually come to the turn off for the game trail. Smooth flat asphalt is replaced by a bumpy dirt road that is narrow enough two cars would have trouble passing each other. The trees loom over the trail. Right now, they’re mostly aspens with the occasional conifer but that will change the farther you go into the woods.

Taking a deep breath, I start trekking down the road. I already hate it. The trees rustle and the smallest noises make me jump. Half of the road is baked in the sun and the other half is shaded by the trees. Visibility isn’t a problem yet but as the evening approaches it is going to get dark fast.

It’s creepy. Once, I used to love walking this road with my older sister, the woods seemed magical and the air was filled with the sound of us chatting and exploring. Now the shadows seem to hide something dark and terrible. The air is filled with something approaching silence but not quite. The leaves rustle with the wind, and the sound of my feet crunching on the road keep the silence just barely at bay.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it!

One step then another. One step then another. I set my sights towards each bend in the road as I pass. Each is a goal. I’ll get to the next pass. Arrived. I just need to get to the next pass. Arrived. I just have to get to the next pass. Arrived.

The soreness in my muscles has faded but my throat feels dry and my tongue swollen. I’ve walked the game trail before and it’s a long way, but never like now. The swing of my open backpack throws my center of balance off, the desert of my mouth, and the whimpering of my stomach seems to stretch the time out. I look at my watch—6:12—and try and estimate how far I’ve gone. It feels like I have already gone ten miles but looking at the time and examining the landmarks around me, it’s possible I might have gone five. Probably closer to four.

Step, step, step, step, step, step, step, step, step.

The shadows lengthen until I am standing on a small patch of sunlight at the edge of the road. I’m getting uncomfortably close to the foliage and trees. I can’t help but look at them and worry something is going to jump out at me. I try and comfort myself with the reminder that there is nothing out here. The biggest animal in these woods are deer and elk. The forest is set aside for nobles who feel the desire to go hunting. There aren’t any predators.

It doesn’t help. Nor does the fact that I’m the Demon Lord. The shadows still loom no matter how many times I say that at one point I was scarier than anything in these woods could possibly be. My feet hurt, my throat is sore, but the terror I feel at the darkness makes those feelings feel trivial.

A bend in the road swallows the remaining light. Examining my watch, I find that it is 8:23 I probably have three more miles till I get home. The darkness and terror swallow whatever relief I could feel at being almost there. The water bottle is empty.

I shiver as the once-hot sweat begins to cool in the night air. I contemplate wrapping my sleeping bag around me. It would probably warm me up a little, but the idea of stopping is terrifying. I can’t stop glancing at each pot-hole in the road, each shadow seems to hide some sinister being waiting to attack. By now the trees are silhouetted against the night sky. I can barely make out the trail and I can’t stop shaking. I’m not sure if it's from the cold or the growing dread I’m feeling at the darkness that surrounds me.

I’ve slowed down. I can’t see and my feet keep bumping against rocks and slipping into potholes in the dirt road. The sound of my feet crunching dirt and rock is deafeningly loud.

*Crunch, Crunch, Crunch, Crunch, Crunch, crack, Crunc—*

I stop. Did I mishear something? I could have sworn I heard a small—

*crackle*

I swallow. I hold perfectly still except for the trembling in my limbs. I can barely see the path in front of me and the terror that there is something behind me is overwhelming. My rational mind is telling me that it is just the wind. Or a deer. Yep, it could totally be a deer.

*tap, tap, tap*

It sounds like something is coming closer. The slow sound of feet hitting on dirt—it’s on the road with me.

“H-hello?”

My voice stammers as I raise it. The tapping sound stops.

It’s not a deer.

If it was a deer it would be bounding away after finding out that something else was on the road with it. Instead, it stopped. Maybe—*tap, tap, tap*—it was just the dog they were looking for. It was probably just as lost—

It’s not a dog.

—as I was. It had probably stopped when it heard me because it was happy to find a human.

It’s not a dog.

A small whimper escapes my throat. The sound was getting closer. The crunch of little feet on a dirt road. A lot quieter than the “crunch” that my shoes make. Like bare feet against dirt or—

It’s not a dog!

—perhaps the sound of tiny little puppy feet making their way closer?

It’s not a dog!!

*tap, tap, tap tap-tap-tap-tap-tap*

The sound picks up. It’s coming faster now. The sound is getting closer. I tremble. My stomach feels sick with dread. My eyes continue to search the darkness for the source. I can just make out a small figure heading towards me. Perhaps the puppy was happy to see—

IT’S NOT A DOG!

*taptaptaptaptaptaptap*

The sound towards me blends into one as whatever it is starts running towards me. But I’ve already turned around and started running. A small part of me that is shivering in a corner of my mind insists that it’s just a dog. It’s just a dog. It’s just a do—

IT IS NOT A DOG!!!

I run. My feet slamming against the uneven ground sending me crashing forward into the dark. I want to look back, but I can’t. My backpack swinging back and forth on my back makes it impossible to glance back without risking falling over. I want to drop it, but I can’t seem to make my hands let go of the straps. I want to scream for help, but the words seem to die in my throat coming out more like a croak. I finally manage to get out a,

“Help.” But it comes out as a whisper so quiet that I can barely hear it. The terror has seized my throat so bad that even that pathetic little sound was all I could force out. Why can’t I scream!?!

I feel something snag on my backpack. But I’m in the middle of the road? Nothing should have snagged—

A new burst of terror sends my feet running at a pace I didn’t know I could go. The pull on my backpack grows harder and is suddenly released nearly sending me tumbling. I slide out of the backpack in one motion and keep running. The new fear smacks the terror clutching my throat away and I scream!

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” the sound is swallowed by the night. The only sign that I yelled the ringing in my ears.

I run, my heart is throbbing in my chest so fast and loud it seems to drown out the sound of feet behind me. My lungs burn and my legs feel stiff and unresponsive. Barely able to coordinate putting one before the other. I feel something try and grab at my neck and instinctively let out a scream and throw my right hand in a swing behind me.

“AHHHHHHHH!” *Thwack*

The vibration of wood hitting flesh trembles up the sword in my hand as I stumble backward, barely keeping upright from the sudden change in momentum.

*Hissss*

I’ve heard a cat hiss. I’ve heard a snake hiss. But never have I heard a sound with such malice. I know that whatever made that sound was definitely not human and that I do not want it to catch me. Because if it does… A shudder of fear rolls through me as I turn around and keep running. I barely caught a glimpse of the creature chasing me. But it seemed to be hunched over in pain. Maybe that will give me enough time to—

*tap, tap, tap-tap-tap-taptaptaptaptap*